Carry You Over To A New Morning

Remus did not even hesitate, but said, 'I met him at Alice's New Year's party a few years back. We chatted for a bit.'

It was an unfortunate talent he had always had, lying without exactly lying, words tumbling out of his mouth as if he had thought about them all properly, but hadn't really. It was instinctive. It had been what his grandfather was so very, very good at. Besides, even if he would want to be honest with Valerie, it wouldn't be a good idea; telling Valerie about Sirius's visits to St Mungo's would cost him his job.

Valerie frowned at him. 'You chatted to him once a few years back and now he's coming to visit you in hospital?'

'It was very kind of him,' said Remus, with a shrug. Somewhere in the back of his mind, his conscience was resentful of this turn of events, and attempted to interrupt with warnings of dishonesty, but Remus forced the thoughts down. There is no other way to handle this, he thought, it would just not be right for anyone involved.

It was not the way he'd expected the conversation to go. It wasn't that he ever imagined that he'd have a conversation with Valerie about Sirius, but still, somehow, this was not it. This felt like reducing Sirius's importance, claiming his bright smile, his dimples and his wide grey eyes didn't make Remus feel a little lost. But it was also necessary, in a way, to make Sirius out to be less than he was.

Valerie still looked unconvinced and then said, seemingly out of the blue, 'I've known him for a very long time, Remus. He is a troubled child.'

There was a kind of lightness to her tone, but her words held something implicit, something unreadable. It flared something dark and heavy in Remus's stomach, because it sounded like she knew something, or suspected something, but would not share it. He did dislike it ever so much when she chose to act like that. Before he could open his mouth to say something, however, she had looked at him, and decided, on her own, to change the subject. When she got like this, he knew pressing her was useless. 'Your mother wrote to tell me you were in hospital. I'm so sorry.'

Remus squeezed her hand.

'I didn't know if it was good to come,' Valerie offered. 'But I knew I would regret it if I didn't. Do they know anything yet?'

Remus shook his head.

Valerie's mouth tightened, slightly, but there was nothing really she could say to that, so she didn't. She did always know how to use her words. 'I can't stay. I have to get back to New York.'

'I understand,' Remus said.

She kissed his forehead, then, intimate and soft. 'I will be back as soon as I can. Take care, Remus.'

It sounded a lot like goodbye. Maybe it was. He wasn't sure.

'You too, Valerie,' he said, and smiled.

'I'll see you soon,' she said, and then smiled, too, and left his room, her cloak swirling brilliant and green behind her.

When it did come, a day later, early in the morning, Remus was almost not surprised.

Healer Martin burst into the room, unannounced, just as he was changing into a freshly washed pair of pyjamas, courtesy of Alice and Marlene, taken out of his own closet. He buttoned up the rest of the shirt and stood to face her, his thoughts going a mile a minute. They know, he thought, because she was beaming at him with a kind of triumph.

'Lupin,' Martin said. He noticed, absently, that the ashy tone to her skin had disappeared. He wondered if he had been the one who had put it there. And then, it came out in a rush. 'It's rare,' she said, with a wonder in her voice that came from being assigned this case and being given a chance to do something extraordinary. 'If you were a Muggle, we couldn't have done anything, but since you are a wizard, it's reacting to the magic in your body and it's all mixed up, but we can fix it.'

Remus didn't know when he started leaning on the metal of the bed in relief, looking at her with eyes that were wide and shocked. 'Does it have a name?' he asked, as if it even mattered, now. Fixing it meant going back to normal, meant leaving St Mungo's, and meant gaining back control of his own life.

Martin, disappointingly, shook her head. 'We found the symptoms in Magical Ailments and Diseases of Wizarding Britain, in a reference note.'

The book sounded familiar, and it took a moment for Remus to call to mind a leather-bound book with a swooning witch on the cover, recognising it as one of the standard texts in the first year of Healer training. He couldn't recall all the reference notes; it was more like Marlene to read and memorise those, and then tease him with questions he didn't know the answer to when they were studying together.

Martin, meanwhile, had continued, '– and then one of the assistant-Healers working with me on the case found the instructions. And I mean, it's risky, but I think we should, Lupin. I think we should.'

It was possible she had suggested something life-changing, but Remus hadn't really heard, hadn't really registered. Oddly, he was only thinking of Sirius's dimples, which was entirely inappropriate, so he forced himself to look at Martin, instead. 'When?' he asked.

Her smile was beautiful and capable. She looked like she was in control again. Five days it had taken her to find this solution, this answer. He knew, then, that it would always be one of the things she would fault herself for, one of the things she would remember when she was feeling low, and questioning her capabilities as a Healer – he knew, because it was what they all did, measuring their worth against the cases they couldn't solve, the people they couldn't save.

'As soon as possible. We'll be monitoring you after the procedure, but if all goes well, you can go home.'

Relief, glorious, warm relief surged through him. 'All right,' he said.

'All right,' said Martin, around a smile that lit up her face.

The second time Sirius came to visit him, it was just as unexpected as the first time. Remus had been eating breakfast – toast with raspberry jam and some really awful tea that he had to add half the sugar-pot to in order for it to be even remotely tasty – when Sirius showed up, hair soaking wet and cloak dripping resentfully on the hospital floor. His eyes looked very, very grey.

'Merlin, it's pouring,' Sirius announced, far more loudly than necessary, as he stepped into the room, closed the door behind him, and took off his cloak. Water gushed from it in waves, almost comically, when he hung it over the railing of Remus's hospital bed to dry.

Remus stared at it, feeling water soak through the bedsheets that were tangled inexplicably with his feet, and he must've pulled a face, because Sirius laughed at him, not entirely unkindly, as he sat down in the chair beside Remus's bed, tilting it so that it was stood only on its back legs, Sirius's feet resting idly on Remus's mattress.

'Ah, you've been lonely without me, admit it,' he said, simply.

'Black, your cloak is making my feet wet,' Remus responded.

'Did I ever tell you about the time James and I turned the floor of the Great Hall into ice?' Sirius asked, ignoring Remus completely.

'I can imagine it felt very much like the way my feet are feeling right now,' Remus said.

Sirius looked at him for a moment, blinking in surprise, and then shook his head. He leaned forward, the chair returning to its regular, four-legs-on-floor state, and kissed Remus, hard, on the lips. By the time he drew back, Remus was breathless, and looking at Sirius, all thoughts of his soaking wet feet, mostly, forgotten.

Sirius looked entirely unaffected, tilting the chair back onto its back legs. 'So, it started with Snivellus – as things usually do, you can just imagine the horrors James and I have to endure being in his constant presence –'

In the end, Sirius stayed for four hours, until he said that McGonagall was expecting him back to serve a detention. He didn't mention Valerie. Remus didn't, either.

'It was just tragic, really,' Fabian said.

He was sat on Remus's bed, all red hair and freckles and only just twenty-one.

'Very,' said Gideon, his twin brother. He was leaning against the wall, his sandy blonde hair falling into his eyes, which were bright with recalled mischief. 'We did tell him not to trust anyone who looks like he knows more about pyramids than you, but he wouldn't listen.'

'How odd,' said Remus, amused. 'You two are so trustworthy.'

'That's what we said!' said Fabian, feigning resentment.

The door flew open with a loud bang, and Sirius appeared. 'Remus,' he said, whined really, his winter cloak heaving with sleet, and something clutched in his hands that looked suspiciously like a book, 'you'll never guess –'

At that moment, he spotted Fabian and Gideon. The rest of his sentence halted in his throat, coming out in a croaked sort of gasp, and he just stood utterly still in the middle of the room. He looked, suddenly, eleven-years-old again. Fabian rose up from the bed and stood there while he waited for Sirius to gather his wits, grinning like a maniac. Remus, vaguely, felt sorry for Sirius.

'You're –' Sirius said, looking between them. 'You're the Prewetts – I'm – it's such an honour,' he said, the words tumbling out fast. 'I mean, the pranks you pulled – you're legendary.'

'We've been told,' Gideon said, sounding extremely amused. He had come to stand next to his brother, his arm thrown casually over Fabian's shoulder.

Sirius looked like he could hardly contain his excitement. 'My favourite is the one you did on Valentine's Day, in the Great Hall.'

'Ah, can't take the credit for that one, sadly,' said Fabian, jerking his head in Remus's direction. 'It was designed by Remus.'

Sirius's mouth dropped as he rounded on Remus, who held up his hands in embarrassment. 'Momentary lapse of judgement,' Remus said, but he was smiling.

Gideon roared with laughter. 'If that's what you need to tell yourself, Lupin. It's always the quiet ones,' he added to Sirius, winking conspiratorially.

'Do try to get better,' Fabian said, patting Remus on the head. 'Even Mol's missing you, and she's up to her ears in the new baby.'

'Tell her I said hello. And thanks for visiting,' said Remus.

Fabian gave a shrug that meant, of course.

'It was nice meeting you,' Gideon said, grinning broadly at Sirius, and winking at Remus. Then, the twins left, seemingly as one person, stepping past Sirius and out of the room, one of them kicking the door shut behind them.

Sirius stood there for a moment longer after they had left, his fingers clutching mindlessly at the book he had been holding. Remus was torn between amusement and pity.

'All right?' he asked, eventually.

Sirius turned his head to look at him, his mouth opening and closing around words that were unsaid. Then, he said, 'I can't believe you,' and the incredulity in his voice was mixed with amusement, and something Remus thought might be admiration.

'How?' Sirius demanded, flopping down on his bed, steadily soaking the sheets.

'How what?' Remus asked, innocently, and made attempts to gently shove him off the bed. The last time Sirius had visited was still fresh in his mind, his dripping cloak having steadily soaked Remus to the bone; Martin had given him a Pepper-Up Potion after he'd felt the beginnings of a cold. She'd chastised him, after, telling him to be more careful.

'This is just not on,' Sirius said, disappointment heavy in his voice. He leaned forward, pressing his whole body against Remus's, which was still covered by the sheet. 'Betrayed, lied to –'

'You're extremely wet again,' Remus said.

Sirius kissed him, kissed him, kissed him, until Remus thought he would burst. It was silly how Sirius made him forget things, like how incredibly soaking wet his sheets were, now, and how he was actually shivering from the cold of it. He envisioned, briefly, Martin standing in the corner of the room, her arms crossed over her chest as she launched into the same lecture she'd given him last time.

But then Sirius kissed him again, and Remus forgot how to do anything except kiss back, his left hand coming up to tangle itself into Sirius's hair. After a while, Sirius pulled back. 'I got you a book,' he said. 'And I've got to go.'

Remus blinked, dazedly, as Sirius stole another kiss, and then got off the bed with a distinct plopping sound, which could be heard when his sopping winter boots hit the floor. He grinned once at Remus, secretive and slowly, and then made for the door. Remus shook his head, and then looked down at the book Sirius had forced into his hands just before he left.

It was a first edition of Charms of Defence and Deterrence. Remus stared at it, stroking his hands over the gilded cover, which had the title of the book and the author's name embossed in it. When he opened it, he saw that the first couple of pages were made of wafer-thin, sheer paper with elaborate, gold-foiled detailing of the principles and workings of the Patronus Charm. The book was signed (signed!) by Professor Catullus Spangle, himself, on the first page.

'Thought you might like it,' Sirius's voice came, softly, from the door. He sounded pleased.

But when Remus looked up, he was gone, leaving Remus, and his utterly bewildered thoughts, alone.

That evening, Healer Martin popped into the room. 'Tomorrow,' she said, and Remus looked up from Charms of Defence and Deterrence with a smile that hadn't left his face since that afternoon.

'Tomorrow,' he agreed.

The next day, early in the morning, Martin showed up in his room. She explained, as she escorted Remus into another room, his muscles stiff and uncooperative from being inactive for too long, that the wait had been due to Healer Goldstein. A retired Healer, she had been the only one who had ever treated someone with similar symptoms to Remus's. And she had been too busy with committee meetings and Ministry attachés to tend to him before now.

When Remus was introduced to her, he was reminded vaguely of his grandmother. She was a tall woman, with greying blonde hair, and sharp greenish grey eyes that were framed by silver, round spectacles. She shook Remus's hand, firmly, and then smiled at him. She looked old, but formidable.

'Very nice to meet you, Healer Lupin. I think your Healing Charm is one of the cleverest things I've seen in my career,' she said, primly. Then, her tone turned brusque, pleasantries apparently forgotten. 'Now, I've been told you've been suffering from high intracranial pressure for well over six months now.'

For some reason, Remus felt chastised. 'Yes,' he said.

'While I assume Healer Martin has explained the procedure to you, I will do so again, if you would lie down?' she asked.

Remus did as she said, lying down on the hospital bed in a room which was located at the very end of the second floor. The room itself was cosy and warm, but it was bare except for the bed, and a team of assistant-Healers, helmed by Healer Goldstein and Healer Martin. He felt slightly drowsy, but he didn't know if it was because of the room or because of his anticipation of what was about to happen.

'You will be given a sip of a Draught of Living Death potion, which will put you into a heavy sleep. While you are asleep, I will take a look inside your brain, see what's causing the pressure, and hopefully cure you of it. If all goes well, you will wake up and your headaches will be a thing of the past.'

'Sounds lovely,' said Remus, somehow thinking of Alice and Marlene, who would be waiting for him. They had been worried, but also hopeful. In an uncharacteristic display of affection, Marlene had planted a kiss on his cheek, and Alice had squeezed his hand. We will be here, she had said, and Remus had smiled.

'All right,' said Healer Goldstein, cheerfully. 'Please take the potion, then, Healer Lupin, and we will see you in a few hours.'

Remus did as he was told.

The next thing he became aware of was a dimmed lightness all around him, which seemed dull and not really there. He felt a faint note of panic in the pit of his stomach when he realised that it was a struggle to open his eyes, but the panic subsided when he found that he could. Sitting next to his bed, chatting quietly, were Alice, Marlene and Sirius. He sat up, a bit slowly, leaning on his forearms.

It was as if time had slowed down. The three of them turned to look at him all at the same time, with identical expressions of relief evident in their features. Somehow, his eyes found Sirius, and stayed on his face.

'Hi,' said Sirius, eventually, with a grin that was made of something beautiful.

'Hello,' Remus croaked, sleepily.

Author's Note: While this will not be too important for the rest of the story, I imagine some people are curious to know what, exactly, Remus is suffering from. He has a form of idiopathic intracranial hypertension, a neurological disease of unknown origins that heightens the intracranial pressure in the brain. Remus's innate magic has been battling the disease, and while it was able to reduce the symptoms at times, it has also, unintentionally, attached itself to the disease, creating a strange blend of symptoms that are wildly uncontrollable. This blend is so very rare that it has no name, and I don't think it will ever get one.

There is currently no cure for the disease as far as I am aware, but I imagine magic is able to do things that modern medicine cannot, and created a weird blend of treatments that will at least comfortably reduce the symptoms for Remus.

In a way, this chapter is kind of a whirlwind of emotions. I do hope you'll like it.